


I Can't Escape This Feeling

by senioritastyles



Series: Everybody Loves Luke [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Drunk Sex, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senioritastyles/pseuds/senioritastyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calum's confused by Luke and his feelings.<br/>Also, fist bumps for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Escape This Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> (title is from Tidal Waves by All Time Low ft. Mark Hoppus)

Calum’s really hoping the universe is playing some kind of sick, freakish joke on him. He really, really does. Because no one should actually be allowed to look good all the time. Like, ever. At all. But Luke fucking Hemmings is doing it. And Calum has to see him every single day. Not that it’s a bad thing, to get to look at good looking people 24/7, but when that good looking person is your best friend it doesn’t pan out so well. 

Said best friend is sitting next to him at their house in LA, playing Fifa and losing miserably but trying his hardest all the same. He’s got on Calum’s beanie, which normally pisses Calum off but Luke looks way too cute in it right now. Calum’s glad Michael and Ashton aren’t home, that they’re still at the studio, because they would definitely be making fun of the way Calum’s looking at Luke right now and Calum is way too bad ass to be deemed the sap in the group—that’s what he thinks anyway.

“HA!” Luke shouts, startling Calum nearly out of his seat.

The older boy looks at the screen and realizes Luke’s scored on him. “Hey woah, woah, woah. I wasn’t even looking! That’s not fair bro.”

“Yeah well maybe if you weren’t so busy staring at me you would’ve seen me steal the ball.” Luke teases.

Calum’s cheeks go red because he didn’t think Luke was paying attention to that. But oh well, Calum isn’t easily embarrassed so he’ll definitely get over it. He probably already is. Yep, definitely over it. 

Until Luke says, “What were you even looking at? You were staring for like, five minutes.”

“Nothing bro. Just wondering why you’ve got my beanie on again.”

Lies. Calum’s a liar. He just lied right to Luke’s face and he hates lying to Luke because Luke gets all pouty and self-conscious when he’s lied to. But he can’t tell Luke what he was really looking at. He can’t tell Luke that he was staring because Luke’s hair looks like brushable gold, the pieces that are sticking out just begging for Calum to run his fingers through them. He can’t tell Luke that he was staring because the stubble on Luke’s jaw looks like it needs to be kissed and bitten and licked just so Calum can feel the scratchiness. He can’t tell Luke that he was staring because Luke’s eyes are flashing with the moving pictures on the screen, the blue looking more stormy than rather than sunny. He can’t tell Luke that he was staring because Luke’s body is long and feline, stretched over half the couch in all its lanky glory and Calum just wants to crawl on top of it and glue himself there. He just can’t. That would not be very bro-like. That would be the opposite of bro-like. It’d be....boyfriend-like. Kind of. Yeah. So, no.

Luckily Luke goes back to playing the game, whether he buys Calum’s answer or not, and Calum’s so distracted that Luke actually ends up winning.  
\--  
Ashton and Michael don’t come home until well after Luke and Calum fall asleep, and they finally reunite in the kitchen the next morning. 

The first thing Luke says is, “I beat Calum at Fifa and you both missed it.”

The entire room freezes and Calum groans into his coffee, looking pained by the reminder. He definitely is. Luke never wins, not even against Ashton’s little brother. He is so never living this down. “Fuck off bro.”

“He beat you?” Ashton muses, pouring too much milk into his cup for Calum’s taste; so that’s why there’s always a severe lack of dairy products.

“Yeah, I did.” Luke answers for him, face beaming much too proudly.

“Did you let him win?” Michael asks, slightly disbelieving but with a hint of pride as he looks at Luke.

“He most certainly did not let me win. I won fair and square.” Luke defends, and Calum is considering challenging Luke to a work out competition to regain his alpha-male status in this band and to also prove that he’s strong and maybe-definitely remind Luke of the fact.

“Bro, please shut up.” He begs, hoping the subject will drop but knowing it won’t.

“Wow, I’m sorry I missed it.” Ashton says, high-fiving Luke on his way out to the livingroom. 

“Yeah me too.” Michael agrees, punching Luke lightly on the shoulder. 

Luke smiles brighter, looking like a shooting star as he gets up and glides across the kitchen, following Ashton’s trail with a cheeky kiss blown in Calum’s direction. Michael is still chuckling under his breath behind him and Calum is so fucked.  
\--  
Calum’s just finished his work out on the patio, and he’s been out by the pool on his own for a good hour now, at least. He likes being outside, especially in LA, because the sun looks like a giant dippy egg on a big blue plate just like his mom used to give him for breakfast on the weekends when he was still in school; and because the air is warm and its refreshingly crisp and he’s still got that breathless sweaty body-ache feeling and he feels super good right now and Calum might have to write a song soon because his fingers are itching and the view is perfect and yeah he’s going to write.

He tumbles back into the house and grabs the first acoustic guitar he sees, probably Michael’s because he always forgets it when they go to write, and he brings his phone out too so he can type things down. He sits back down on his pool chair and lays the cool wood of the guitar over his sun-warmed skin and he shivers. His fingers wrap around the neck of the guitar and he starts strumming random chords together until something strikes him. It takes a minute of fumbling before it sounds right and he’s quick to repeat the progression over and over, humming at random intervals to guess where the words should go. He figures out the timing and then he’s stuck a bit on the words. He hears the door slide open behind him but he doesn’t look back, he just keeps looking up. 

He’s thinking, hard, watching the sky even though he can feel someone standing behind him, knows its Luke because no one else would be this quiet with him. No one else really lets him think in silence, which is why he writes with Luke most of the time; it’s easy, effortless. Like the way it was in London, when they were writing the first album there. How willing Luke was to just come and sit by Calum when it was pouring rain and Calum just wanted to stare outside and hum out his ideas while Luke strummed the same few chords for hours with him.

And then it hits him, something small but it sounds nice and it means something, which is what Calum always tries to go for when he writes: meaning. He types it down, even dares to tweet it, and starts strumming again, counting in his head until the timing is right and he sings, “I wanna little bit of California, with a little bit of London sky.” It settles just the right way when he stops and he smiles wide and finally looks at Luke to see him smiling back.

“Sounds nice.” Luke admits sincerely, loping over and sitting in the chair next to Calum. “What’s it about?”

Calum says, “You.” before he can think, but it’s the truth and he doesn’t really want to lie twice in less than twenty-four hours, not to Luke anyway.

“You wrote that about me? Sounded more like it was about a place.” Luke wonders, his nose doing that cute scrunchy thing it does when he’s smiling and squinting at the same time.

“It is. Kinda. It’s about the places we’ve been together.” Calum tells him, starting a rhythm back up on the guitar. 

He keeps singing the words he wrote, thinking it might be part of a chorus or something, and as more words start flowing, Luke starts catching on and harmonizing with him, the same way they do on stage. It gives Calum chills, makes him smile because Luke’s got the kind of voice that sounds good in any pitch, on any words, with any instrument behind him. They keep singing, humming when they get stuck on a part, and Calum might actually be in love.  
\--  
That night Luke comes shuffling into Calum and Ashton’s room with arms full of pizza and soda and Calum’s beanie from last night full of mini alcohol bottles. He’s got Michael behind him carrying another pizza and another hat full of liquor and it’s clear that this is turning into a party of some sort. Calum’s down. He’s always down for getting drunk, to be fair, but especially when it involves free food.

He sits up and Luke deposits his load onto Calum’s bed while Michael does the same on Ashton’s. Calum goes right for the soda and alcohol, finding the plastic cup stash from last time under his bed and tossing two towards Ashton and Michael and pulling out two for himself and Luke. He starts making them hangovers and Sprite, just a mix of a bunch of alcohol and a splash of soda, like they used to do when they were back in Oz and all they had were the little bits they could skim off the stuff in the liquor cabinets without it being noticeable. 

He hands Luke his drink and Luke hands him two slices of pizza on a paper plate. They’re both quick to dig in, sipping slowly and eating quickly, finishing off the whole pie before half their drinks are gone. Michael and Ashton have since disappeared, seemingly out of nowhere, but Calum can hear them outside, thinks they’re probably in the hot tub getting drunk. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but Calum’s buzzed and he can tell Luke is too and when Luke starts to get drunk he gets really lazy and tired. 

“M’still proud of myself for beating you at Fifa.” Luke announces, small smile on his face and his voice low and slippery sounding.

Calum rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his drink. “Brag while you can ‘cause s’not gonna happen again.”

“It could.”

“No it couldn’t.”

Luke waits a minute, looking over slyly. “It could.”

“No, it couldn’t.”

“You’re mean.” Luke decides, pretty eyes blinking slowly.

“I’m not mean, m’just right.” Calum corrects, slinging an arm over Luke’s broad shoulders.

Luke nods, going quiet for a moment until he looks right at Calum, body slumped low so that his line of sight hits Calum’s jaw rather than his eyes. “Wanna kiss you. Can I?”

Calum’s hand starts shaking but he hides it by taking a sip of his drink again, trying to maintain his composure so Luke doesn’t think he’s weak; so that Luke can’t see how eager he is. “Sure.” He says, sitting his drink on the bedside table and shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Okay.” Luke says, leaning up and mouthing along Calum’s sharp jawline, stretching his torso up until he reaches Calum’s mouth, using a hand on his cheek to turn the older boy’s face more towards him.

Their lips slot together and Calum’s acutely aware of how comfortable Luke is like this, how not-freak-outish he is, how fearless he’s being. He’s just kissing Calum without a worry, like he knows it won’t change anything because he won’t let it. He slips his tongue around Calum’s like it’s a totally normal thing to just have a half-drunk make out session with your best friend. He’s just being Luke, Calum supposes, soft and sweet and unaware of his effect on people. 

And Calum kisses back, always able to take the cue from other people, pick up on the mood and roll with it, freak out first then follow the lead, easy-going, smooth sailing. He kisses Luke like he’s got nothing to lose because Luke kisses Calum like he’s got nothing to lose. And it feels simple, easy, and Calum’s always up for following his heart, doing whatever feels good at the time. This definitely feels good, and Luke tastes like vodka and grease and a little bit of mint from his toothpaste, and he smells like sunshine and fresh grass—the way a little kid might smell after playing outside for hours on a hot summer day. He smells like home. 

It’s what prompts Calum to move closer, shift his weight and tilt his face and bury a hand in the hair on the back of Luke’s head to hold him still. Luke lets him do it, moves with him easily and allows himself to be kissed. They pull apart but they don’t go far, Calum’s forehead resting against Luke’s and their eyes still closed. A moment of silence passes and Calum nudges his nose against Luke's cute button one to get his attention; Luke hums.

“Want you.” He says, the words feeling heavy on his lips.

Eyes still closed, Luke’s mouth quirks up and falls back down like even that is too much effort for his lethargic mind. “Have me.”

Calum scrunches his brows together because there is no way Luke actually just said that to him. But then Luke’s eyes are fluttering open and his hand in back on Calum’s cheek and he's backing up to look into Calum’s sweet brown puppy eyes.

“Have me, Cal. Please.” 

Calum doesn’t think he’s ever heard a sentence so beautiful before. “Okay.”

He goes back to kissing Luke delicately, teasingly, his playfulness taking over because he likes messing with Luke and it seems like Luke’s giving up control to Calum easily like he always does; a people pleaser, pliant, willing. Calum’s getting hard just thinking about it.

Luke’s hands find the hem of Calum’s shirt, dragging it up with the heels of his hands pushing into Calum’s skin the whole time, lazy and slow. Calum pulls back and lets Luke get the shirt over his head, rumpling his hair, and Luke’s hands fall back down. They roam over Calum’s biceps, the older boy flexing them purposely to make Luke squeeze them, feel how strong Calum is, how easy it would be for him to hold Luke down and have his way. His dick twitches in his jeans and he’s 100% hard now, thinking about how effortless it would be right now to just grab Luke’s wrists and pin him down, especially when Luke’s body is so malleable and floppy with buzz-drunk sleepiness. He’s so hard it hurts.

Luke’s finger nails scratch lightly down Calum’s chest and his toned stomach, feeling him out until he gets to the button of his black jeans and undoes it. His hands slide around to Calum’s ass and grab it, pushing up so Calum’s kneeling in front of him and Luke can unzip and tug the material down. Calum helps him out, pulling them off the rest of the way while Luke bites at his neck and his lip ring nips at the skin near his Adam’s apple. Calum can’t focus but he really wants to get Luke naked so he’s going to do that like, now. Right now. 

Calum pushes at Luke’s chest to get him away from his neck, hoping there isn’t a mark there because he might actually have to kill Luke if he left one. He knows Calum isn’t much for hickeys. “Get your jeans off.”

Luke bites his lip ring into his mouth and tiredly unbuttons his pants, yanking them down with about as much force as a snail, and Calum can’t take the slow exposure of skin, he wants it right fucking now and so he takes it, slapping Luke’s hands away and showing off his strength by ripping the pants off Luke’s lean legs in one swift go. Luke is tugged down by the force, body slumping further into the mattress and his mouth hangs open in awe. 

“That was hot.” Luke tells him; he sounds like dripping honey over toast, rough and smooth at the same time and sweet against Calum’s taste buds.

“Thanks.” Calum says, pushing Luke’s arms above his head and lifting his shirt clean off his body.

Luke stares up at Calum hopefully, like a challenge, eyes screaming ‘take me’ without even meaning to. Calum intends on listening to them. He goes back in for more, sucking Luke’s mouth into his and reaching a hand down to feel Luke over his boxers, tentative rather than cocky this time because it’s the first dick he’s had in his hand that isn’t his own. It doesn’t feel as strange as he’d assumed it would, it just feels like the logical next step here: grabbing Luke’s junk and swallowing the soft gasp of surprise. Calum can do this. He’s Calum Hood for fuck’s sake, he can handle Luke. It’s Luke who can’t handle Calum. That’s what he’s pretending anyway, even though Luke seems perfectly fine. Calum and his ego can pretend.

Calum keeps rubbing over Luke until the blonde is so hard under his boxers that he might burst in another second. He’s making these hot little sounds against Calum’s tongue and his arms are flopped at his sides, fingers twitching like he wants to hold onto something but can’t be bothered to actually do it. He’s such a lazy drunk and Calum’s glad for it because it means he’s relaxed and willing to listen. 

“Get these off.” He demands quietly, words tickling Luke’s lips as his fingers tug at the elastic band of his own toucan boxers that always end up on Luke's body.

Luke nods and lifts his hips, getting them down and off his legs. “You too.” He insists, idly stroking himself as he watches Calum.

Calum, always he showman, makes a scene of standing up off the bed, teasingly dipping his fingers past the waistband and looking down, watching himself touch his own dick. He wants Luke to be riled up, to be desperate for him, to want him as badly as Calum’s wanted Luke for however long now. He pulls down until the head of his dick peeks out, Luke’s head lolling to the side in admiration, and Calum can practically see his mouth water, and it makes him smirk. The clothing finally leaves his body, dropped to the floor and he steps out of them, getting back on the bed. 

Calum presses a few soft kisses against Luke’s lips, holding Luke’s jaw in his hands and tilting his face to the right angle. “On your stomach.”

Luke huffs a breath and scrambles to flip over, resting with his hands bent near his head and his cheek on the pillow, legs spread enough to let Calum fit there. Calum reaches up and slides his hands around Luke’s wrists, holding him to the bed while he kisses the back of his neck just under his hairline, down the bumps of his spine, stopping just above where his back meets his ass. Luke lies there calmly, in another world beneath Calum’s tender touch. Calum sits back up, his hands following the path his mouth made and continuing down, cupping Luke’s ass in his palms and pushing them up and away from each other, exposing Luke.

Calum runs a thumb over Luke’s intimacy, drawing a shudder from him. “Give it to me Cal, please. Want it.”

Calum looks up at the side of Luke’s face. “You think you can take it?” And he’s not trying to sound brag-y, he’s not, it’s just...okay, Calum’s decently big, bigger than most if you ask him, and he’s not willingly to hurt Luke no matter how hot this is.

“Yeah, s’fine. Please.” 

So alright, as long as Luke is okay with it, Calum is okay with it. And Luke seems okay, so Calum’s going to do it. He’s going to fuck Luke Hemmings. “Okay.”

Calum spits in his hand, a lot, coating his dick as well as he can manage. He’s nervous but he won’t admit it, grabbing the base of his dick and tilting his hips forward enough to poke at Luke’s ass, to make himself seem confident. He pushes forward, as slow as he can go, marveling at how truly relaxed Luke is, how easy the alcohol makes him, because Luke’s just opening up, pulling him in, swallowing his dick and sooner than Calum thought he’s balls deep and his eyes are squeezing shut. Because Luke is tight, searing hot and air tight, and Calum needs to calm the fuck down before he loses his shit in ten seconds like a fifteen year old. 

Luke’s breathing is a little heavy, but other than that you’d never know he had a dick in his ass, and it nearly startles a laugh out of Calum because only Luke Hemmings would be totally composed while being fucked by his best friend. Luke, Calum decides, is a ridiculous and impossible human being; he also decides that he’s totally in more-than-bro love with him. Like, boyfriend love. 

“Move Cal.” Luke prompts, shifting back a little and arching his hips to give Calum better access.

Luke still looks sleepy, even when Calum starts pulling out and pushing in. Calum’s going slow, grinding in deep and watching Luke’s hands tighten on the sheets beneath them. He feels like this is some porno shit, fucking in the low lighting, the moon full and stark white against the inky sky and in perfect view out of the window, Michael and Ashton’s music drifting in through the open glass—sounds like Bruno Mars. His pace is even, body rolling into Luke’s carefully and Luke seems to like it that way, breathing out whimpers against the cotton rubbing his lips and brows furrowing over his closed eyes. Calum wants to see those eyes.

“Open your eyes, Lucas. Look at me. Watch me fuck you.” Calum commands, resting his hands on the mattress beside Luke’s ribs and leaning over Luke’s back.

Luke’s pretty blues flutter open and he looks dreamy, blinking up with innocent wonder in his eyes, like he can’t believe Calum’s a real person. Luke smiles and his left hand twitches and Calum takes the hint, sliding his own hand up and curling it around Luke’s, leaning even further over and rubbing his lips against Luke’s knuckles. 

Luke’s eyes squeeze shut when Calum keeps grinding his hips and its clear Calum’s doing something right because Luke says, “Please Cal, make me come. Wanna come so bad.”

Calum nods and sits up fully, pulling out of Luke to readjust.

“Caaalllll.” Luke whines, squirming. “Come back.” He’s trying to sink back, searching for Calum’s touch.

“Be patient Lucas.” Calum scolds with a chuckle, worming an arm under Luke’s lower stomach and leaning over to kiss his shoulder.

Calum uses his leverage on Luke’s torso to help ease himself back inside, pulling Luke back against him. He holds Luke’s lower body up, using his strength to keep Luke’s knees off the bed and Luke’s hips against his. Luke’s upper body stays slumped against the bed, letting himself be manhandled, held in the air and fucked. Calum goes hard, hips slapping against Luke’s ass crudely, Luke panting loudly. Calum’s going to bust soon, he can feel it in his toes, and it’s going to be a good one. Luke’s clamping down on him, taking the pounding like a drowsy little champ and Calum feels like he should be proud or something. 

Luke’s body heaves and he tenses up, legs squeezing Calum’s hips and he clenches so tightly around Calum that the older boy can’t even move for a solid minute until Luke relaxes again. If it’s even possible, Luke goes even limper, loose and still under Calum while he keeps fucking Luke. When Calum comes, he comes hard, freezing against Luke and stomach pulling so taut that it actually hurts, burns in his thighs even. It feels fucking incredible. Luke’s still panting when Calum eases out, collapses in exhaustion next to a half-asleep Luke. 

Calum rolls onto his back, laughing quietly because that really just happened. He really just had slightly drunk sex with Luke and they’re probably going to do it again sometime and he’s pleased with himself. He looks over at Luke and nudges a fist against his shoulder, making him open his eyes. Calum holds out his closed fist and Luke giggles and barely lifts his hand, pushing his knuckles against Calum’s.

“Post sex fist bumps.” Luke mumbles, small smile on his face.

“It should be a thing, bro. Fist bumps for everyone.” Calum comments, opening his arms to let Luke roll into them.

“We can make it a thing.” Luke tells him, always up for Calum’s ideas even if they’re stupid.

Calum breathes a laugh into Luke’s hair, shifting to bring the covers up over the two of them, turning onto his side and making Luke be big spoon because that’s how Calum likes it. 

“Cake is real.” Calum mutters, feeling a kiss on his shoulder.

“Cake has always been real, Cal.” 

Calum thinks he might’ve known that, but he’s glad that it’s an actual thing now. It’s a thing and Calum’s keeping it that way. Fist bumps for everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> So this one made me nervous too because Calum's personality is a little hard for me to figure out. I feel like he's a lot like Luke but more self-aware and outwardly confident. I don't know. I tried really hard so I hope it came through! Let me know what you think :)  
> tumblr: senioritastyles.tumblr.com


End file.
